


An Omen of Rebirth

by R_Black



Series: From the Ashes [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (kinda), Blood, Gen, Mollymauk Tealeaf Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29565930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Black/pseuds/R_Black
Summary: Set between chapters 2 and 3 of Freedom of the Soul. Mollymauk's recent death puts him in a new position, one where he sees what dangers could lie ahead. He now has a new choice before him: Return with little to no knowledge of what's to come, or stay behind the veil and scream his arse off at all the wrong choices the Nein could make.
Series: From the Ashes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924222
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	An Omen of Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set between chapters 2 and 3 of the previous story, Freedom of the Soul. For those who haven't read that, here's the important part needed to know this story: Molly deals the final blow on Vokodo at the cost of his own life and is completely dead.

Death was something Mollymauk Tealeaf was unfortunately familiar with. His very first memory was his body trying to escape Death's clutches, his Blood Hunter powers edged him sometimes too close to Her, and he'd actually died not 3 months into his journey with the Nein. He got better, thanks to their then-newest member Caduceus. Since then, he—and the others—had been more careful about the consequences of their fighting styles. Sure, there were other brushes with Death after that, but never so far away from an instant resurrection as Molly had been the first time.

The second time Molly _died_ -died, at least he went out in a literal blaze of glory. He dove straight through a volcano and essentially kamikaze'd a demigod.

As his spirit drifted in the void, Molly wondered what would become of him. Would he cross over into the Raven Queen's domain? Would Lucien—the first owner of Molly's body—greet him here and inform him of some weird curse? Would he be stuck here waiting until his friends became just powerful enough to resurrect him in a new body? Or would the Moonweaver lead him to her plane?

Molly looked down and realized he was naked. His tattoos glowed brightly like bioluminescent markings, though the eyes strangely did not. It was a welcome reversal, if he was honest.

Interestingly, there were other tattoos overlapping the old ones. Rainbow lines stretched across his torso, most of it situated on his back and sides. It took him a few moments to realize the markings were exactly the same ones as his coat embroidery. Same designs, same placement, same colors. A memory itched, one of severe pain and burning, and Molly recalled his coat had melted into him during his final descent into the volcano. The designs had impossibly fused into his skin just before he and Vokodo disintegrated. Now they were woven between his actual tattoos, like silk threaded through canvas. The art moved like liquid as he flexed. He wished Jester were here to see it; she would absolutely love this style of tattooing.

Molly blinked and the void dissipated like morning mist. Now he stood on a road. It was familiar and dreary, and he knew instantly this was the place where he had first died as Molly.

He saw the spot where Lorenzo had stabbed him clean through, stained permanently by his blood. Which didn't make sense, if Molly thought about it. Blood eventually gets washed away. The light snow from the ambush day would have definitely gotten rid of it.

Molly walked closer to the area. No one was around. The snow was gone. But there was a large spot of blood red grass sprouting. The vegetation in question was actually more akin to the base of a dandelion, or a mutant cabbage, except crimson. And huge.

He crouched down, examining the strange plant. The tips of the leaves were frosted with a bluish purple hue. If Molly concentrated, he could swear the plant was glowing.

“Oh no.”

Molly startled. He twisted around, reaching for his scimitars’ hilts. They weren't there, of course. Besides, this was a vision. A dead one, at that.

Cree was rushing towards him, but not in anger. She looked almost…sad. Before Molly could react, she'd brushed through him. Though he couldn't exactly feel anything anymore, he involuntarily shuddered.

The Tabaxi crouched down and cupped a leaf in her pawed hands. “Lucien,” she whispered. “What have they done to you?”

Molly gulped. They hadn't exactly dealt with Cree since first meeting her in Zadash. After Molly had gotten the shit end of the stick in dealing with Lorenzo, he'd had to spend a good chunk of time resting, including during their initial return to Zadash. Cree had asked about him, but Fjord had sent her away. The next time Molly went to the Gentleman's hideaway, Cree was gone and so was a little bit of everyone's blood—and _all_ of Molly's. Everyone had a hunch Cree had figured out Molly wasn't who she thought and kept one eye out for her from then on.

Evidently, their assumption had been correct. Cree snarled, tears in her eyes, and clawed the dirt around the plant.

“They did something to you, Lucien,” she howled. “They have taken your body and defiled it with that imposter! Well, I shall find your soul. I will grow more powerful, Nonagon, and create a new body. For you. For Somnovum.”

Time melted. Molly began to see flashes of Cree and the blood plant. A season passed. Cree's powers grew, messages were sent, and new people arrived.

A Goliath, a Halfling, and a human. Molly involuntarily shuddered again as they gathered. His eye tattoos pulsed, and Molly wished this vision would go away. He could hear voices around him. Whispers of shattering and reformation. His head swam.

“Have you tried bringin' him back?” the Goliath ( _ **Zoran**_ , the whispers supplied) asked.

Cree bristled. “Almost immediately upon finding this spot! But when I tried, I was warned away from completing the ritual.”

_**Patience**_ , the whispers said in tandem with Cree, though the others didn't seem to react to them. _**The marked vessel must first be empty.**_

The mere word empty made Molly freeze up.

“So why don't we kill the imposter?” the human ( _ **Tyffial**_. Again with the unwanted answers) grumbled.

“Yeah,” _**Otis**_ the Halfling agreed. “Seems like that would be a great fucking solution to our problem.”

Cree shook her head. “He's being guarded. Those Mighty Nein are strong. They took out the Iron Shepherds. And they wouldn't even let me near the fraud upon their return.”

“We could take ‘em.” Zoran hefted his big hammer and grinned. “I bet none of ‘em could even take me on in a thumb war!”

“A stirring sentiment,” Cree muttered. “But we cannot rush this. I was granted that warning from beyond. I may not have been given visions like the Nonagon, but they have deemed me worthy of their voices until he is ready to return. I will not move forward without him.”

The way she said it with such adoration made Molly frown. Cree and Lucien might have been a Thing before. Weirdly, it grossed him out.

Time warped again. Another season passed. The group set up a camp around the blood plant that never wilted or grew. They trained. They hunted. They slept. They defended against bandits. Everything was too fast for Molly to study individual move sets, but just slow enough for him to comprehend what was happening.

Dawn broke over the horizon and time became normal. The group arose with the sun, going about their daily tasks with little fuss.

Suddenly, the plant shuddered. It swelled in size and reached out with thorny vines that exploded from the ground. Each vine caught a member of the group, even Cree. They yelped in surprise as the vines drew them close to the plant. Molly hovered nearby but hesitated to get too close, a bit afraid that a vine would catch his spirit.

_**The body has been destroyed**_ , the whispers screamed. This time, the others did seem to hear. Their ears bled at the otherworldly contact. _**A new vessel may be gifted. Do not fail again.**_

Cree was released, but the vine didn't totally detach. It remained wrapped around her waist.

Immediately, Cree brought out a diamond and set it inside the center of the plant. It seemed to swallow the gem, sucking it inside its core leaves as the outer petal-leaves began to fold inward. Like a flytrap.

“Nonagon,” Cree called softly. “Lucien. Hear me from your place in the Abyss. You are needed back in our homeplane. We need your guidance. A falsifier has claimed your body and destroyed it. I offer you a new one with permission of the Somnovum. We, your Tombtakers, offer up our essences to guide you here.”

On cue, the thorny vines tightened, and blood poured from each member of the group. Though they all grimaced in pain, they did not fight it. The blood trickled down the vines and flowed into the closed center of the plant. It swelled again, pulsing with each additional pint like a mutated heart. Then, something else was drawn from the Tombtakers—sans Cree. Fire spilled from Zoran's wounds. Oily ooze traveled from Tyffial. Electric dark energy erupted from Otis.

The energies and blood pooled inside the plant, engorging it, making it pulse larger until it was bigger than a human.

Molly suddenly felt something for the first time since he'd died. It began as a small prick in the palm of his hand, then became worse as time went on. He howled in agony as the pain multiplied across his body, right where the eye tattoos were. It felt as though someone were actually carving the eyes out! One by one he could see the eyes literally detaching from his form, as harshly as one would peel off the individual scales of a reptile. In their places were dark voids of nothing that bled as a living person's wounds would.

All nine of the eyes circled him, gazing at him with disdain. Molly heard the whispers again.

This time, they spoke to him directly.

_**You are not welcome, you who would defile our vessel. Our freedom. You do not deserve our gifts.** _

Then, the eyes left him. They floated into the center of the plant and disappeared.

The vines suddenly went slack. They dropped the Tombtakers and disintegrated. Cree was released last, divine energy radiating from her as soon as the others dropped. The plant pulsed one final time and the magic switched off.

An eerie silence passed between them all. Even Molly, spirit still impossibly bleeding from the void holes in his body, held his tongue.

The plant shuddered and the leaves released in a sigh. A bubble of blood popped and flowed out, drenching the Tombtakers who were still prone. Only Otis had the unfortunate luck of being 100% covered due to their size.

Molly gazed at the plant, which now held a body in its center. Like the _Babies come from cabbages_ lie parents told their children, Molly could see himself lying there. No, wait…that wasn't his body.

It was Lucien.

The body gasped and all of his eyes—his normal and the nine on his body—snapped open. A gurgling screech erupted from him as he sat up.

All nine of those awful eye tattoos trained onto Molly's spirit form just seconds before Lucien's actual eyes. He grinned like a wolf up at Molly.

“And don't come back,” he whispered darkly.

The eyes flared and Molly was thrust back into the void.

* * *

He floated there for an indiscernible amount of time after that. Molly wished he'd been able to see more of that vision. It confused him, to be honest. It had started off in the past and then at the end it wasn't.  
Had that _just_ happened? Had Lucien been resurrected the same day Molly had permanently died? If so, Molly knew his friends were in trouble.

A soothing feeling came upon his void palm. The space where the eye had been was now sealing shut.

He clenched his other fist. His friends. The Nein were in trouble because of him and his stupidity.

He now wished he'd learned more of Lucien and his shady past. If he had, the Nein would be prepared for whatever the fuck the Tombtakers wanted to do. Hells, they might have even taken them on earlier before Cree could resurrect Lucien.

Another eyehole sealed shut.

The void lightened by a few degrees. Molly started walking. There was no ground, but he strode as confidently as if he were about to step onto a stage.

The Nein needed him. He couldn't wait around forever. He had to rejoin them quickly.

More eyeholes sealed shut. His tattoos began to glow again, though he didn't remember them ever stopping. Maybe he just now registered they even were there again.

The void began to clear again. This time, Molly was in a place he'd definitely seen before. This time, he knew who would be waiting.

The Moonweaver smiled as he stepped forward. The full moon floated behind her like a huge halo.

“ _It's a little rude to keep a goddess waiting_ ,” she said with a wry smile.

Molly chuckled and bowed. His tail swished behind his bare form. “I apologize, M'lady. Apparently I had to see something important happen.”

“ _Yes. Things have been set in motion that can no longer be undone._ ”

“Will I at least get a chance to warn my friends that Lucien is back and probably out for revenge?”

The Moonweaver shook her head. “ _Right now you walk a line between life and death. Though you are not yet in the Raven Queen's domain you must still abide by some of her rules. Any information you glean on this side of the veil will not come with you upon your return._ ”

“Fuck.” Molly rubbed his head. “So what the hell was the point of that? Why show me important shit if I can't actually share it?”

“ _Because even now you have a choice to make._ ”

Molly paused at that. “What?”

The Moonweaver’s eyes twinkled like frost, but with no hint of coldness. “ _There is a choice to be made here. If you share anything you have directly learned here while you are still dead, you forfeit the right to return fully. But if you are resurrected before sharing, the information will come to you as fleeting feelings and abstract dreams._ ”

“Well that's bloody useful,” Molly grumbled. “Stay here with all the answers or go back and forget that shit's gonna go down.”

“All _the answers? Seems a bit of a stretch, Mr. I-am-your-god._ ”

It was a light jab. Molly was glad she took such blasphemy so well.

“ _I have a proposition for you, though,_ ” she continued. “ _If you choose to return to the living side, be my champion. Though you would not remember the omen sent to you, I would give you the power to face it head-on._ ”

Molly crossed his arms in thought. “So…I'd be your Paladin? Like Fjord is for the Wildmother? Or do you want me to be your Cleric like Caduceus and Jester?”

“ _Neither._ ” She waved her hand dismissively. Moonlight wavered around the hand as it moved, almost like a dance. “ _I have many Clerics and Paladins at my disposal. Powerful though they may be, they are not_ you _. You represent something my Clerics and Paladins cannot: Freedom._ ”

She strode towards him, towering over him like a giant willow. Her fingers brushed against his cheek. “ _I cannot tell people to believe. It's against my love of personal freedom. And you and I both know I can't tell you how to worship me.”_

“Fair. But…not to beat a dead horse since I've asked this before…why me?”

“ _You are quite possibly one of the most free souls out there. Born of a fragment of a soul, you made it your own. You freed yourself before you were aware of what that meant, and you've spread joy everywhere you've gone. That has more power than the strongest Paladin’s smite._ ”

Molly blushed.

“ _Like I said, this is a choice. I am merely offering…shall we say, an incentive to choosing to return without the full omen._ ”

“And a damn good one, I suppose,” Molly acknowledged. “So is this just a title only? Would I just have some sort of badge to flash like the Bright Queen's symbol?”

“ _While you would not be a Paladin or Cleric, nor would you be truly shackled to me in anything but title, you would be granted a new set of powers unique among my Champions, current and previous._ ”

“And if I choose to stay dead?”

“ _I will not punish you for that. If you wish to come to my domain once fully past the veil, or if you go elsewhere, I cannot stop you._ ”

“What if I want to live, but don't want to be your Champion?”

“ _Also something I cannot stop. Though I will warn you, without your new powers your chances of surviving the coming battles will diminish exponentially._ ”

Molly considered this for a moment. “Will I be able to do that thing Caduceus can do? What's it called…Commune?”

_“I can grant you this power, yes. Divine intervention is off the table, unfortunately.”_

“Fair.” He ran a hand through his hair, just now noticing none of his jewelry had crossed over with him. Shame. “Well…fuck it. I'd rather be helping with no clue what I'm doing than sittin' on my arse backseat driving to deaf ears.”

He bowed low. “I'll take you up on your offer…my Goddess.”

The Moonweaver smiled down at him like a proud mother. Behind her, the moon glowed brighter. The halo of light expanded, becoming angelic white wings. The wings folded over Molly, and he felt a deep, soothing heat wash over him.

When he next opened his eyes, he was in Yasha's arms at the edge of a volcano, his brand new wings already fading into his shoulder blades as a beautiful new peacock wing tattoo.


End file.
